


Spring: I Dream of You Amid the Flowers

by sanzuh



Series: The Seasons of My Love [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Child Neglect, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27506089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/pseuds/sanzuh
Summary: After a short fling with a Dornish girl, Ned Stark meets his soulmate Catelyn.They decide to get married and are happy to welcome their daughter Sansa into the world soon after.Over a decade later he finds a boy on his doorstep with nothing but a suitcase and a letter identifying him as his son and no home to return to.Little does Ned know that his daughter started seeing the world in colours the moment she laid eyes on her half-brother.This used to be chapter 4 of a multichapter fic, but I'm finally turning them into a series of separate fics because I think that makes more sense.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: The Seasons of My Love [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010232
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Spring: I Dream of You Amid the Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> title from _Daydream in Blue_ by I Monster

Jon is twelve.

His mother grabs him by the arm, pulling him out of the car. She looks nervous, lip twitching and hands shaking, the circles under her eyes darker than he's used to seeing them and her skin more sallow over her sharp cheekbones.

They've been driving for a couple of days, all the way up North. "I can't do this anymore," she muttered several times over the course of their trip. Jon was too frightened to ask what she meant.

At first he was excited that his mother was taking him with her. Before, she'd always disappeared for a couple of days without even telling him, coming home reeking of things Jon couldn't name, still wearing the same clothes she left in.

Mother can be sweet when she feels like it, but every time Jon thinks he's figured out what to do to make her cook for him or give him lunch money or help him with his homework, just when he allows himself to believe she's going to stay, she leaves him again. 

When he was little, he didn't want the other kids to know that he cried himself to sleep at night because he couldn't make his mommy love him, but he's a teenager now and men don't cry.

She startles him from his thoughts by shoving an envelope into his hands. "Give this to your father. Tell him you're his responsibility now."

He frowns at her in confusion. She's always told him he doesn't have a father. He glances at the suitcase she's put down next to him and then back at his mother, who's already back in the driver's seat of the car.

"Trust me, kid, you're better off without me," Ashara tells him before taking off without even looking back.

Jon stands there for a moment, staring at his shoes and then turns around to study the house behind him. It's the biggest house he's ever seen, with a nice front yard and a porch swing. Hesitantly he walks to the front door, reaching up to press the doorbell.

His eyes drop to his feet again, studying his frayed shoelaces. The door swings open and he looks up at the person standing in the doorway. It's a girl in a frilly dress, two pigtails hanging over her shoulders. He risks a glance at her face. She must be younger than he is, but she's taller than him.

Her lips are parted in surprise. "Can I help you?" she asks and something in her voice gives him the courage to look up.

He meets her eyes and suddenly the world becomes a brighter place, filled with colours he doesn't know how to name. She clasps a hand over her mouth, as she regards him with eyes large as saucers. For a while they keep staring at each other until she cries out: "Daddy!"

* * *

_I loved a maid as green as spring_

_with flowers in her hair_

Jon wasn't sure why he'd decided to come home for spring break. His main motivation for moving away to go to college was to get away from her.

It had all started three years after the Starks had decided to take him. At thirteen, Sansa had become too well-developed for her own good. She'd always been a pretty girl, but instead of going through the awkward phases of puberty like most people, she'd gone straight to drop-dead-gorgeous.

At fifteen, hormones raging through his body, it had been enough to drive Jon out of his mind. Sansa'd had a habit of prancing around the house in miniscule shorts and skin-tight shirts. And as if that wasn't bad enough, she'd always seemed eager to hug him, pressing her braless breasts into his back or chest, or curling herself into his lap.

At sixteen he'd met Ygritte, who was twenty and drove a motorcycle and he'd jumped right into a relationship with the wild thing, trying to distract himself from his inappropriate attraction to his half-sister. He'd even lost his virginity to Ygritte, but it just wasn't meant to last.

At seventeen he'd counted the months until his graduation, so he could finally be free from the spell that was Sansa. 

Literally distancing himself from her had given him some semblance of a normal life, but he still missed her, feeling her abscence like a constant ache or hunger. 

It didn't matter how many times he let his dormmate Satin suck his cock, he still dreamed of her every night. It was not just sex though. He wanted her. _Gods,_ how he wanted her, but she meant so much more to him.

He missed her voice and her smile and the way she'd glance up at him with those bright blue eyes. He missed her optimism and her unwavering faith in humanity. She never failed to find a solution to any problem, simply because she believed.

It made her strong and vulnerable at the same time. It made him want to hold her close, protecting her from the cruel world, protecting him from his own cynical heart.

Sansa believed they could be together, but Jon knew she was too smart and her future too bright for her to throw it all away for her half-brother.

After sitting in his car across the street from the Stark residence for fifteen minutes, he killed the engine and stepped out. His feet had hardly hit the ground, when the door swung open.

He quickly jogged to the other side of the road and found her standing in the doorway. Before he had a chance to look at her properly, she'd bounded over to him and jumped into his arms.

Relief and warmth washed over him, all tension leaving his body. It was as if he could breathe again for the first time in months. He held her close, breathing her in, relishing the feel of her in his arms.

She pulled back to nudge her nose against his, arms locked around his neck. She gazed into his eyes and he stared back, unable to look away.

He only regained his composure when he heard Bran and Rickon shouting his name. He let the boys lead him inside as they started talking his ear off. When they pulled him over the threshold, he couldn't help but turn one last time to let his eyes feast on the vision of Sansa in a grey sweater and black leggings.

* * *

Jon had decided to retreat to the tree house for the day. He and Ned had built it during his first summer here. It had taken a while for Jon to get used to being part of a family and the tree house had become his safe space.

He was lost in thought and the book he was reading, when he heard someone climbing up the ladder. He needn't look up to know that it was Sansa.

She tiptoed over to him and folded herself onto the floor, burrowing under his arm and nuzzling her face into his neck. "I've missed you," she murmured against his skin.

He closed his book and exhaled heavily through his nose. He put the book aside, still avoiding her face, only betrayed by the hand that had started stroking her arm as soon as she'd snuggled into his side.

He looked down to find her studying his face. The fingers of her left hand started playing with the hair that peeked out from under the neckline of his shirt as she gazed up at him with big innocent eyes. She'd tucked cherry blossoms into her fiery braid which hung bright against her bottle green dress. 

"I've missed you, too," he whispered roughly.

A radiant smile spread over her face and she let her head rest against his shoulder. "I've made a terrible mistake, Jon," she muttered.

His heart almost stopped. He gulped. "What happened, sweetling? Tell me." 

"I tried to follow your advice," she began. "Go out, meet other people. And I- I found myself a boyfriend."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the monster that roared inside him as he imagined Sansa with another man. 

She buried her face in his neck, fisting her hand into the fabric of his shirt. "Harry seemed so nice and I was angry with you for leaving me. I let him.... take my virginity and-" her voice broke down into a sob.

His free hand came up to stroke her hair as his stomach churned at the idea alone. Gently he lifted her chin until he could meet her teary eyes. "Did- did he hurt you? I swear I'll kill him if he did," he murmured fiercely.

She shook her head. "No, not like that. He dumped me the day after," she whispered.

Jon clenched his jaw, his blood boiling with rage. "Fucking douchebag!" 

She averted her eyes. "I'm such an idiot." 

"Don't say that!" he objected, stroking her cheek. 

"I am," she whimpered. "It should have been you, Jon!"

He released her, turning away. "Sansa," he warned her. "Please, don't."

His rejection only seemed to make her more determined. She braced her hands on his shoulders to swing one leg over his so she could straddle his lap.

He looked down to avoid her eyes, nails digging into the wooden floor at the sight of her skirt riding up her milky thighs where they were spread open over his.

"Look at me and tell me you don't want me, Jon," she whispered.

Foolishly he glanced up at her face and gulped. "I can't," he rasped, even with the voices inside his head calling him a sick bastard.

She beamed at him, hands carding through the curls at the nape of his neck and started leaning in.

She slanted her mouth over his and lightly brushed her lips over his again and again, undeterred by his lack of his response.

His lips parted with a small gasp when she lightly nipped at them and she didn't waste the opportunity to slide her tongue into his mouth.

His hands flew to her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back hungrily. He groaned into her eager mouth. She tasted of candy shoe strings, which he'd normally find too sweet, but discovered he simply loved on Sansa's tongue.

When they parted, she let out a breathless giggle which shot straight to his already suffering cock.

This wasn't the first time they'd kissed, but he knew it needed to be the last.

"I'll be eighteen in a couple of months. We could run away together to a place where nobody's ever heard of Jon Dayne or Sansa Stark," she panted into his ear.

"Sansa, we can't," he sighed, struggling to keep his voice devoid of emotion. "I can't give you the future you deserve."

She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I don't care. As long as I have you."

"What about our family, Sansa?"

She considered his question for a minute. "I'll miss them, too. But we could leave them a letter, to explain. Mom and Dad know what it's like. They'd understand."

Jon didn't want to imagine the looks on Ned and Cat's faces if they ever found out the truth. He owed everything to them. "No, San, we couldn't do that to them." 

She pushed herself off him, turning her back to him. She threw him a scowl before she started descending the ladder. "You're just a coward, Jon!"

* * *

When Jon woke up in the middle of the night, he found her lying next to him, snuggled into his side under the covers.

Mind still drunk with sleep, he pulled her closer and she draped a leg over his hips, pressing her hot core against his groin.

It shouldn't surprise him that Sansa mewling his name after he'd kissed her into oblivion was enough to finally push him over the edge.

She swallowed his objections that he didn't have a condom with a kiss and a comment that she was on the pill. "And I trust you, Jon," she murmured against his lips.

When he finally slid inside her, he shouldn't be as overwhelmed as he was that she felt like heaven and home all wrapped up into one.

After, when she was lying in his arms, back pressed flush against his chest, after they'd entrusted the truth and depth of their love to each other's lips and hearts and skin with and without words alike, he couldn't help but wonder: _If this is wrong, then why does it feel so right?_


End file.
